


Lightning In A Bottle

by wolfie_winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Is Actually Good at Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Post-Mark of Cain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 07:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4338974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfie_winchester/pseuds/wolfie_winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is human now and he is no longer the calm before the storm - the way the world turns silent as if holding its breath in anticipation. He is no longer lightning and ozone and thunder. He’s just Cas. Laughably human, useless Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightning In A Bottle

Castiel stares out the window of the shabby little motel room that they’ve hunkered down in for the night. A howling storm rages outside, the sky dancing with lightning as the streets are drenched in sheets of rain. The thunder is loud enough to rattle the windows and he feels the rumbling in his bones. His gaze is somewhat nostalgic, remembering a time when he used to be this, used to be composed of electricity and power - a force so strong that humans would tremble, take shelter in their basements as angels waged war above.

 

But Castiel is human now and he is no longer the calm before the storm - the way the world turns silent as if holding its breath in anticipation. He is no longer lightning and ozone and thunder. He’s just Cas. Laughably human, useless Cas. As the rain comes down harder, the flimsy walls of the building shaking with the loud crack of thunder from the sky, he wonders why the Winchesters bother keeping him around anymore.

 

Dean is sleeping on the bed behind Cas when a particularly loud boom jars him awake. He sits upright in bed, hand automatically reaching for a weapon before he realizes that it’s only thunder. The hunter rubs his eyes and when he blinks, he sees Cas standing by the window, the curtain held to the side with a hand as the fallen angel stares outside with an almost forlorn expression on his face.

 

“What’s wrong, babe?” Dean mumbles sleepily. He motions even though Cas can’t see him. “Come back to bed.”

 

“Do you miss it?” Cas asks, not taking his eyes off the ominous dark clouds even as they light up with crackling fingers that arc across the sky. Dean takes a moment to process the question and a second longer to answer, a befuddled, “What?” escaping his lips.

 

Cas sighs and lets the curtain fall shut, though the darkened motel room is illuminated by occasional flashes of light from outside. He turns, his back to the window as he now approaches the bed. Dean stares at him curiously, concern etched into his features as it almost always is these days.

 

He climbs onto the bed and Dean wordlessly wraps his arms around him, tugging him to kneel between his legs as the hunter reclines against the headboard. Cas is silent for a while. He does that sometimes now, will go quiet for hours without any reason as to the cause. Dean, of course, knows that Cas just needs time. And eventually, Cas will crack a tiny smile, allow Dean to coax him into a hug and the fallen angel will whisper apologies against his lips.

 

This isn’t one of those times though. Cas finds his words after a minute or two of thinking and when he does, he places a hand on Dean’s chest, fingers tracing the anti-possession tattoo.

 

“Do you miss me having my powers? Being able to fly to you at a moment’s notice. Smiting demons in a burst of holy light. Healing with a touch. I miss it. I can’t imagine you don’t either,” Cas says, a melancholic tone to his voice.

 

“Sometimes,” Dean admits. “When Sammy gets hurt, I kinda wish you still had your mojo. And I’ll admit the whole smiting thing was pretty handy. And kinda hot.”

 

Cas snorts and Dean smiles up at him, hands gently caressing his sides. The fallen angel jumps when it sounds like the sky is crashing down on them. He can hear the rain pounding the roof, the windows rattling again as the thunder rolls and rolls.

 

“It’s just thunder, babe,” Dean tells him.

 

“I know,” Cas says, that longing back in his voice. “I know, love.”

 

Dean’s eyes fall to his collarbone and the hunter leans forward, pressing a kiss to fragile skin. Fragile because Cas is still healing from where a werewolf had cut him open, a painful reminder that he’s mortal now. Dean squeezes him tighter, as if he’s remembering it too and the man lets out a soft breath against his chest.

 

“Is that it?” he asks.

 

“Is what it?” Cas repeats, feigning ignorance.

 

“The storm. That used to be you, right? I remember you told me, before all this happened,” Dean murmurs.

 

Cas nods and he bites his lip to choke back a cry.

 

“Sometimes I’m okay. I gave up my grace for you and I would do it over again in a heartbeat. I will never regret doing that for you. But - but sometimes I remember what I was before and - and I wonder how you could still love me, when I’m useless now. When I can’t heal you or your brother with a touch or fly you to safety. When it comes down to it, what good am I? What good am I, Dean?”

 

His chest is heaving with the effort to hold back his tears and it feels like he can’t breathe. If he were still an angel, that wouldn’t be a problem. But he’s no angel anymore and breathing is very much necessary and he sometimes feels as though he would break apart if not for Dean holding him so tightly. Like now, for instance. Each roll of thunder and each flash through the flimsy curtains make it worse and worse, taunting him - reminding him of how he’s not lightning in a bottle anymore. He’s just human and he’s useless and weak and fragile, all things that he never ever thought he would be.

 

Cas doesn’t realize that he’s trembling until Dean takes both of his hands and squeezes them gently. The touch grounds him and the crushing weight on his chest lifts marginally.

 

“Baby, breathe,” Dean tells him, letting go of his hands in favor of taking his face in hand. His thumb traces across Cas’ cheekbone, wiping away the wetness there. Cas struggles to mimic Dean’s slow and even breathing, but after a while, the vice around his lungs releases its grip.

 

He whispers the hunter’s name, an unspoken plea for comfort locked behind the word and it’s all his lover needs to hear before he’s pulling Cas to his feet. They go to the window where the rain is starting to fizzle out, though lights still flash overhead and Cas can hear the periodic rumble in the distance.

 

Dean wraps his arms around him from behind, hands linked together on his stomach. The hunter’s lips brush his ear and Cas leans into his warmth.

 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re human, Cas. You’re still just as powerful as that storm out there. The thunder is there in your voice - deep, rumbling, and scary as hell when you want it to be.”

 

They both chuckle a little at that and Dean kisses his cheek, fingers tracing idle patterns on Cas’ stomach as he continues.

 

“I see the lightning in your eyes, when you fight, when you laugh, when you still look at me like I’m something worth loving.”

 

The rain has stopped now, the flashes of lightning few and far between as the rumble of thunder dwindles down to nothing more than a distant noise one might mistake for a large truck driving by. Dean turns Cas around and kisses him softly, moving closer so there’s barely an inch of space separating their bodies. When they break apart, Cas smiles up at Dean and his lover grins right back, lifting a hand and brushing his thumb near the crow's feet that have begun to form at the corner of the fallen angel’s eyes.

 

“See? Right there. Brighter than any lightning I’ve ever seen,” he whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea has probably been done to death, but I couldn't sleep cause it was storming outside, so I ended up standing at the window for a while just watching and this little gem came to me. It was supposed to be fluff and cute, but then it turned to angst and fluff and cute. Sorry. 
> 
> Also, while I love it when Dean is loved on and cared for, I am so _weak_ for Cas getting love and hugs too. Please give me a thousand fics where Cas is taken care of and cuddled and wrapped in soft blankets when the writers are stupid and hurt him.


End file.
